Crimson in the Twilight
A Profaned Air The clear twilight sky cast a warm shadow upon the streets of Milan, Italy, a populous city blooming with activity, even beyond the prime hours of the day. A woman clad in a fine button-up trenchcoat eyed the streets from a window beside the comfort of her velvet seat. The clinking of glass and the jubilant shouting of patrons characterized the classy bar in which the woman fittingly sat. "Enough of this," a deep, masculine voice sounded in her own mind. "We can end this right here if you would merely lift a finger." The woman heeded those words with only a subtle blinking of her ruby eyes behind a modest pair of glasses. Her drink sat idly alongside her legs rested on the table as she peered beyond her window without looking away. The normally bustling streets had gone barren and silent, befitting both the burden of her task and the looming feeling of animosity in the air. "I've already made it clear that he is not to be disturbed," the woman replied in a hushed tone, dabbling the curls of her scarlet hair with a finger. "Or rather... not yet." "I suppose it's only fair that I trust Feronia hasn't fallen so low as to forsake her obligations," the voice replied after a moment of silence. "Above all else, she is a part of me." Randa Primarosa, a woman more oft known as Feronia, an apostate of a fallen cult and she who was solely left in the wake of the wraith of the deity she had once worshiped. She had taken what remained of the woman she once was and dedicated her new existence to warring against the creations of her former Goddess. It was a war that had consumed the following two millennia of her life. She had become both an incarnation of chaos and a venerable Goddess in the eyes of those who respectively feared and worshiped her. Few were even worthy of being considered her enemy, but even so, she had one lingering trial. "I think you meant to say that you're a part of me," Feronia chuckled. Her only hope was that she could enjoy her moment of rest before her target finally arrived—a Nefas with something she would soon claim as her own. Her many centuries of frolicking would soon come to a close, if only she could act without any disturbances. She was patient and collected, yet considering of the possibilities. On the complete opposite side of the one known as Feronia, was the more rowdy side of bar. Here, people had been playing all of the most well-known gambling games: spades, shooting craps, or playing "dominoes". The waitress was the busiest on this side due to it being the side with the most money. She'd been tipped continuously for no apparent reason even when she hadn't helped the ones she'd been tipped by. By the way the men had been dressed it was quite clear who they were, all members of an Italian Mafia. One Capo Di Tutti Capi in the far right corner sitting in a section as if it were VIP. He stood guarded by one of his mafia members holding a German Sheppard. "Hey tuts." The boss states calling the waitress over to his side. She passed by the guard standing over the boss. Once she reached him, he slid a few extra euros on her plate. "Give me seven bottles of your ." He threw a stack of Euros wrapped in a rubber band onto her tray. "And please make sure "he" knows I'm here and make him feel as though he is at home. I wouldn't want to scare away my top customer now would I?" He whispered before fully dismissing her. She nodded her head, placed the money in her apron and stepped from the boss's private section. She served the two tables she'd been assigned to and went on. A figure donned in a black button jacket that reached his waist walked past the waitress. His head covered by the rim of a black hat with gold lining, possibly a fedora. The black jacket and hate complimented by the black slacks a snake-skin he wore. Taking his hat off he let the boss's guard check him. After being fully checked he walked past the guard and sat in the section. This was the man he'd told the waitress to treat as a guess. The unknown man spoke first as he slowly sat his hat on the seat next to him. "I thought you'd have some sorta food upon my arrival." His Italian accent radiating over the section. "Meatballs and spaghetti, with a bit of zucchini in it.. Yeeeaaa, I'm sure that'd hit tha' spot, Agani." Agani, the mob boss gave out a slight chuckle. "This is a bar, not a pizzeria. Besides, I called you here for business not dinner, Mario, Heh." His Italian accent matching the one known as Mario. "Right, right." What little attention Feronia diverted to the disturbance was quickly set back by the sight of the bar's newest addition, a tall man in a ruffled coat. He was pale and unkempt, a malapropos sight amidst a gathering of aristocrats. "And there he is," Feronia murmured, merely glancing momentarily before returning to the window. "Wonderful," the disembodied voice languidly replied. "More importantly, what do you sense upon his soul?" With her own seventh sense, Feronia observed as the man took a seat by the counter where the bartender promptly acknowledged him. "It's a Nefas, that much is clear," she sighed. "I'm not going to do anything yet." "If you act too late, you may well miss your chance," the voice cautioned. "When the time comes, do not hesitate to summon me." "Yeah yeah, Agani. I know ya' came here to discuss business, eh." Reaching into his jacket Mario pulled out a package and slide it across the table. "This is the new drug my boys have made. We call it, "Lady Red". Agani began to unravel the package, only to meet a red powder. "I'ms gonna' take a guessing they call it lady red because the power of it is red. For some stupid reason, the most basic of narcotic." The area got quiet for a moment. Mario's wrist began to vibrate and he lifted the sleeve on his jacket to check the time. There was an exclamation mark on the watch he wore. "Sadly to say we've run out of time." Standing to his feet he pulled out a pistol from his coat. It was an American dressed in a . Pointing it at Agani, Mario chuckled and pulled the trigger shooting Agani square in the forehead. "It wasn't anything personal, my goal was to never sell you a drug anyway. I'm just your average hitman. "Hey!" The guard shouted pulling out his own gun— a mac 11 —firing shots around the entirety of the bar. Mario vanished only to be standing on the ceiling of the bar. "How in the hell did you get on the ceiling?!" "You know, you're too loud. You scarred everyone out of the bar. Well except the other mafia retards." Before he knew it, the other members of the mafia sent shots his way all using the same gun. "Damnit, you're all persistent." Reaching into his coat he put his 9 back and pulled out a Draco. Spinning in a complete circle he left his finger on the trigger hitting each mafia member with a bullet of their own. The ensuing firefight had triggered a cascade of panic and driven away all but several of the patrons and staff. The bartender himself remained defiantly behind his counter, albeit crouched for his own safety. A few others hid underneath their tables, curious or otherwise too fearful to flee. The Nefas had immediately disappeared in the commotion. Feronia herself had remained in her seat, discreetly observing the gang reaching for their pistols without moving in the slightest. "You get points for trying to set me straight, at least," Feronia spoke to the disembodied voice before finally standing up. "But damned if you weren't the one too late to speak." With a quick snap of her fingers, Feronia materialized her a firearm of her own from a brief flash of light. It was among her most treasured creations, the first firearm to have ever been invented. It's gold-coated barrel radiated fiercely before the setting sun. It was her signature weapon and her companion alike, its modest appearance as a sawn-off shotgun belying its true nature as a weapon having claimed the lives of numerous spirits. "Shall we?" Feronia asked her weapon, Abundiantus, as she placed it over her shoulder before waltzing in the direction of the nearest exit. "Stop right there," Abundiantus groaned. "Do you even know which way he might have gone?" "Not knowing is part of the fun, is it not?" Feronia replied with a subtle grin. Mario dropped to the surface from the ceiling he found himself staring in the scarlet red eyes of a women who hadn't chose to fled. Instead she was armed as well, but not dressed like the men in the mafia. "No woman is foe to me." He stated under his breath before clutching his gun even tighter. "Please stay here milady, I'll be back to have a drink with you." Sniffing the air, Mario threw his Draco on the ground. "Hm, so it fled." for the front door of the bar he appeared on the outside. "Tch, I didn't think I'd have to make haste today." Removing the long coat that covered his entire persona, his true attire had come to the light. He ran his hand through his hair making it messy so that it was free-flowing. "Do you even know... who I am?" Feronia crossed her arms as she leaned outside against the entrance, having left the bar a split second after the so-called Mario. The tone with which she spoke suggested some sort of test rather than an effort to extort any sort of information. "That I do not. But, I know you reek of the same stench as the fellow that fled. Don't know if he was apart of the mafia or not, but I can't allow any witnesses to live especially after this." Reaching into his slacks he pulled out a blade that had been dressed in it's sheath. "Roar, Amatsu Tenrairyū!" Wings of lightning formed onto his back and he took off for the skies. "Don't be so quick on the draw, rookie." Feronia's voice sounded in the young man's mind as he left in search of the ruffled man from before, Feronia herself having elected to stay behind. "That's only going to get you killed. Why don't you come back here so we can talk for a moment?" "What a lovely voice to have in my head. I would kill to have it play all day everyday." Responding to the voice of the woman in his head. Turning back to head for the bar, his wings flapped in silence. Once back in view he deactivated his Zanpakutō. Staring at her, his gold mine eyes looked directly into her very own amber amulet eyes. "At times I can be a bit hot headed when I'm at work." He bent down to one knee and reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a rose. "This here flower would dance well with those illustrious eyes of yours." Feronia's eyes wandered as if tirelessly examining every crimson petal before them, beginning a period of silence Feronia ended with a sudden outburst of laughter. "That's cute," came her uninspired response as she took the rose with her free hand, twirling it in her fingers as she paced around the young man. "It's not every day I find a feisty brat content with doing as he's told. If obedience alone were enough, you'd be well on your way to good fortune. The problem is..." She paused upon coming to a stop in front of the young men, her back turned against him. "...You don't know me, so I can't have you going after that Nefas. That's just not healthy." "Tch, 'That's cute'." Thinking to himself, his head dropped in great shame. "Never have I been turned down or belittle by a woman. That just means.... She's the perfect being!" Standing firmly on his feet he face Feronia. I can definitely sense something else what coming from. He wasn't like the Humans in the bar, but as I said he's a witness." Holding his chin he fixed his sights to the open area in front of him. "As I stated you reek of his same scent. I don't know anything about you other than that. Are you offering to tell me about yourself?" "To a point, yes. I'll keep this short, but I'm not going to repeat myself, so listen carefully. That man and I of a select few humans who have been 'blessed' with the power of an abominable deity. It was my own decision to hunt down such humans many centuries ago after this deity we once worshiped inexplicably... turned against us. You can call me Feronia. We are known as Nefas, a secret well kept from the dolts of Soul Society." Feronia turned to stand face-to-face with the youth. "But if you wanted to know what we tend to be capable of, I'll let you figure that out on your own. It's of no concern to me whether you live or die here, but you'll probably be safe if you stay where I can see. After all, that Nefas is my problem... more than he is yours." "Ah, I get it. So you're a spiritually aware Human.. but not a Quincy. Gladly I don't have to draw my blade at a goddess such as yourself, Miss. Feronia." Taking in the information passed onto him, Mario nodded his head while gripping his chin. "I don't have as much information to offer as you did, so in the least I can exchange my name; Ishihara Yamakage." Bowing his head in respects he continued, "I understand that this Nefas is indeed your problem more than he is mine, but in the very least mine in a sense. I will still have my and in pursuing him. So how about this, once caught I'll let you have your way with him. After I'll have mine...deal?" Feronia shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I don't really have a choice, do I? Then so be it, after he tells me what I need to know, you're free do to whatever you please with him... provided he never again sees the light of day." "And I am known by my creator as Abundiantus," Abundiantus spoke aloud before Feronia could continue. "A pleasure to meet you." "One hell of a timing, idiot," Feronia sighed. "My apologies... Feronia." The gruff-toned response came not from Abundiantus, but from a figure standing a distance behind Feronia. Feronia nonchalantly turned to face the narrowed glare of the pale man from before. Gods Among Mortals "My arrival was one of ill timing, I must confess," the man continued in a more genuine tone, his stance neutral and his hands free of any weaponry. Feronia took a moment to observe every inch of the man's figure. His body was lean yet well-built, and could not have been older than a couple of decades. His black hair nearly draped over his eyes in a shaggy mess, further adding to his dejected visage. His tattered trenchcoat was complimented by a low-cut white shirt, black slacks and a pair of fingerless gloves. "So, you did recognize me back there," Feronia replied once she had seen enough. "If you're bold enough to stand in front of me, you might as well tell me what business you have here." "Have I not made it obvious?" the man asked, his eyes drifting to the side. "My business—''our business... is with you, ''Mulier Rubrae Sanguinis." It seemed as though for a short moment of time Feronia and Ishihara shared the same thought process. As she observed the man, Ishihara analyzed him thoroughly. In his mind he thought, "Hm so this is the Nefas she spoke of. I'll ensure he doesn't get the chance to think about the light of day again." Sticking his blade into the ground he leaned on the grip of it as though it were some type of support only to finish listening in on their conversation. “It's been a long since I was called by that name,” Feronia continued. “So, what now? I sure as hell hope you and that brat behind you have something better in mind than to both come at me at once.” Cued by Feronia's mention of him, a smaller figure concealed under a black robe quietly stepped forth from behind the tall man's coat. With the entirety of his face concealed underneath his hood along with a featureless black mask, the supposed child shrouded any indication of his identity, with the exception of an ornate white book held in hand. “If that Venator is here, then at least neither of us need to concern ourselves with this populated city,” Feronia mused, adjusting her glasses. “But what I really want to know is why a Venator would act subordinate to a Nefas.” As before, her question was more of a test. The child's lack of a response was more than enough to provide her with an answer. “What I would like to know, in turn, is why a Shinigami would act subordinate to a plague such as the Goddess' other half,” the man asked, presumably providing a similar test. “Or is it that he knows not of whom he stands alongside?” "If I may pitch in, it is true I do not know whom I stand alongside. I know nothing but what this woman has told me. Possibly meaning the information she's given me may be wrong. I was promised that if I tagged along, my suspicions would be no more." Brushing his hand through his hair he continue, "Now, if you wouldn't mind aiding Miss. Feronia with the information she requests, this could all go smoothly." "I know I said what I said.. but now I'm wondering about the one she called out to be a Venator. Furthermore, by the tone of her voice the fact the Nefas and Venator have teamed up doesn't seem to be a good thing. I know I called out Amatsu Tenrairyū earlier, but I'm against doing so for the second time. Even then he wasn't at full power. I have a few kidō crystals by side, but not enough to last me against two opponents. Tch.. why did I think the World of the Living wasn't capable of making my head hurt." “I'm not even going to bother interrogating him while he freely draws breath, lest he bore me with riddles,” Feronia spoke as she held Ishihara's rose before her eyes. “As for you, Mr.Venator...” Her words had miraculously brought death to the dangling rose. It quivered and wilted as a gleaming red liquid secreted from its anemic petals. A crimson miasma emanated from the fluid before Feronia clenched her fist and reduced the rose to dust falling underneath her. Its residue took shape as a dark crimson flame dancing rhythmically around her grip under a consistent discharge of black electricity. “Act now,” Feronia muttered to the child as she pointed her inflamed hand in his direction. But before Feronia could launch a preemptive strike, the young Venator Scientiae, by merely lifting a finger off his Bibliotheca, abruptly encased both her and Ishihara in a cage of innumerable, fluttering book pages, concealing both sight and sound of the world outside. Dampened greenery spouted from the concrete ground underneath their feet as a raging thunderstorm tore through the silence. When the pages scattered into a clouded sky, a boundless tundra could be seen in place of a city. “Nice,” Feronia commented in a patronizing tone as she removed her glasses, now soaked under the heavy rain, and stored them safely in her pocket. “So this is your world, I take it? How considerate of you to grant us sanctuary, however unhomely it seems at first.” Feronia playfully twirled Abundiantus in the air before pointing it at the child. “This brat is not to be harmed right now,” she spoke to Ishihara. “I'll bide my time babysitting while you carry on with… your duty, or whatever you want to call it.” Observing the actions taken by the one disignated as Venator, Ishihara attempted to act quickly. In his mind he had an entire plan quickly drawn up, but all he truly was able to achieved was grabbing his blade that found itself stabbed into one of the pages of the Venator's technique. "Haha! Have fun babysitting milady, maybe I'll get to see how you are with kids for our future." With that quick laugh he unsheathed his blade and held it out in front of himself. "Roar, Amatsu Tenrairyū." His Zanpakutō began to dance in electricity, and the wings of lightning took form onto his back. Reaching for the hood made of lightning on his upper back area, he called out to Feronia. "This'll be a short dance." Lifting the hood over his as though he had been covering himself from the rain, he let out a thunderous roar. "I suppose it is only fitting we first cast outside the outcast," the tall man murmured, drawing closer to Ishihara in a drowsy pace while shutting his eyes. As Feronia and the child mutually stepped away from the territory he now marked as the spot for a formal duel, the man threw off his coat, surrendering it to the otherwordly breeze. "I begin this duel with but a simple prelude," the man declared while continuing his gradual approach. "Burn lustrously... and burn away." A burning radiance emanated from his opened eyes. He swiped his hand toward the grass, drawing a countless number of its blades before sending them toward his opponent without the slightest of a gesture. The blades of grass, evidently sharped by a mysterious force, threatened to pierce Ishihara inch by inch as they darted forward with a speed bringing to shame that of a bullet. Meanwhile, the man yet continued his stroll. What he would do upon reaching his destination, only he could know. Throwing his blade out in front of him, a lightning bolt struck down to the surface blocking the grass blades, as well as the smug look riding the Nefas's face. The bolt would then switch from a defensive purpose to an offensive use, starting by travelling down a zigzagging path to destroy all the grass blades flowing. Elegant as the strut of a flamingo, the lightning bolt was determined to meet the Nefas as he approached Ishihara. With his mastery of , Ishihara took advantage of his presence being hidden by his attack and flashed himself behind the Nefas. Holding his blade high in the sky clinching it with his left hand, he swung vertically in an attempt to take down his opponent. But alas, the tall man had only launched half of the blades he drew. Drawing a wall of evenly-spaced blades behind his person, he deflected Ishihara's assault with what seemed to be a wall of a torrential wind flowing upward from between each blade. In a single motion, the man directed one hand toward the feral lightning in front of him while pointing another behind him, in the direction of Ishihara's abdomen. With his one hand, the man dissipated every spark of lightning as though it had never existed. However powerful Ishihara's attack was, it was evident from his lack of effort the man had relied on some sort of trickery rather than his own constitution. Taking advantage of the split-second opening as Ishihara's attack bounced off his conjured barrier, the man cupped his fist and conjured a nigh imperceptible rod of wind within hand, extending beyond the boundaries of his own barrier as though it were no longer in place. Were it to successfully impale Ishihara's abdomen, it would undoubedly cripple him if not kill him with an unseen follow-up. All of this came as little surprise to the spectating Feronia. Nefas were entities who could effortlessly detect any souls in their vicinity with enough training; a Nefas of this man's standing would not be so easily ambushed. But what truly piqued her interest was the moment the man effortlessly resisted Ishihara's lightning. He's clearly controls wind, yet also resists lightning, ''she thought to herself. In her eyes, he was either a Nefas Verax with command of both elements, or a Nefas Caela immune to every element. She betted more toward the latter. Even so, she would have little time to warn Ishihara of any danger, courtesy of the wind rod's considerable speed. At the very least, she trusted that Ishihara would survive an attack of such a caliber, lest she be required to intervene. Watching as his lightning bolt reduced to nothingness, Ishihara stood in awe of admiration. Even then, it was not time to do so, as his opponent had been on the move none stop. He had to remember that he was still within range of the Nefas and the tides could change at any moment. And so they did, as the Nefas's other hand was aimed behind him and a gust of wind was formed and quickly followed by the drawing of his weapon. It all seemed to have happened too quickly, and the vigilante was given no time to humane time to think or execute a counter. There was no time, and Ishihara found himself driven through by the wind rod of the Nefas. He rested on the rod held up by the strength of the Nefas. Ishihara attempted to grab a hold of the Nefas's wrist and only to have his attempt rejected by the barrier still up. Taking a closer look, Ishihara's entire abdomen had transformed to an intangible state of lightning, only shifting to the side out of the harm of the rod. Taking advantage of his thunderbolt state, Ishihara dashed back creating a gap between the two and removed his hood. "Tch, this isn't as easy as I thought it'd be." "Do you fear this humble human, Shinigami?" the man taunted as he vanquished his barrier with a swipe of his hand, "My name is Richard Amsel. Know it well for the moment I stand before you as you draw your final breath." A massive, damp patch of the ground uprose from behind Richard as he finished his introduction, hovering several feet above him. An ominous simper crept upon his lips as he seemingly awaited Ishihara's next response. "Do I, ''fear?" Lowering his blade, the Hitorigami look lost for words. "You heard him, Ishihara... He asked did you fear?" A voiced echoed throughout his head. "I remember the last time I had a fear for anything. The fear of possibly losing my mother, but I made sure that fear was no more." Nodding his head he continued out loud speaking to the Nefas, "But that's the past. No I do not fear a humble human. You dance a good dance, being able to absorb all of my special dance moves." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out four crystals and held them in between his fingers. Launching one of the crystals through the atmosphere with an overwhelming force shattering in the process. hurled it's way at Richard. With the use of his Shunpo technique, Ishihara appeared on the opposing side of Richard launching another crystal right after shattering it with his own hand. As the crystal broke down two . "When the moment is right, I'll make my move." Richard grunted wearily as he observed the spells closing in on him and his floating mound of dirt from the front and back. Taking a quick step forward, he placed a clenched fist around his left hip as if reaching for a sheathed blade. The air weaved around his grip and took the apparent shape of a claymore. Briefly shifting his gaze to the twin columns of light approaching from the back, the mighty Nefas made a forward advance—a graceful dash that nigh instantly brought him directly in the way of the approaching spell before him. With the elegance of a hardened swordsman, Richard swung his blade in a vertical motion, soundly and silently cleaving the spell in two and sending both halves on opposite ends of his unfazed body. His intent was clear. Having taken advantage of the spell in front of him existing before the twin columns behind him, he would use his command over wind to send both halves of the spell he had just severed into a collision that would erupt just behind his mound of dirt. And so it occurred. Just as the mound began to emit a gentle flame, the opposing Kidō spells became a quaking eruption as each one successfully extinguished the other. Having at least hidden the mound of dirt within the explosion, Richard turned around and held his claymore behind his back. He would merely wait for Ishihara's next attack, or so it would have seemed at first glance. Watching helplessly as his formation of spells quaked at the swift and flawless movements of the majestic Nefas, Ishihara straightened his stance. "All these hit and run tactics are completely useless against you. You Nefas are an interesting bunch of species. From being able to absorb elemental techniques to being able to utilize different kinds." Ishihara's body began to spark gold and before the Nefas would know it, he'd be wrapped in a layer of lightning. "It appears as though I've found myself in a corner, Nefas. Without the use of my lightning, I don't have anything else to actually rely on."